Tide of War
by ChappyJames
Summary: (Maybe rated M) When the only defensive measure mankind has to combat a threat comes under attack. Specialised Men and Women from around the world are tasking with protecting them. This story follows one of these individuals.


Ch.1 A New Assignment.

"Warfare in this modern era of technology has taken turns that no human in the past could have ever fathomed. This concept is multiplied by the thousands with the discovery of both the Abyssal and Shipgirl 'entities'."  
\- Senior Intelligence Analysis, Chief Miller, CIA. 2021

Asset Recovery and Protection, the term has various meanings, both throughout history and depending on who you ask. Within the last 20 or so years, the term has been synonymous with highly trained men and women, killers and protectors. To become an individual belonging to this program, no matter the country or service, is to be nothing less than a true warrior.

All of the following, for the most part atleast, applied to Specialist Brink. Brink started his career late 2015, joining the USAF. Brink served his Nation for the next 6 years, taking in 5 combat deployments to the hot zones of the time, Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, and ending in Saudi. In 2021, Brink was selected for a job in the NRO as a "Asset Recovery and Protection Specialist." Unfortunately, around this same time, the world turned upside down. The emergence of previously unknown Abyssal forces caused the worlds shipping lanes to collapse, leading to economic breakdowns and in some countries total government collapses. The standing navies of the world suffered heavily in the first months of the very one sided war. The United States for instance losing 45% of its surface fleet, including two super carriers 'As of 2022'. Thankfully, this was not the grand end of humanity. Within the three week period of one-sided fighting, yet another unexplainable force arrived, but this one decided to help us.

Kanmusu, or in english, Shipgirl, are humanoid beings who are the reincarnated souls of warships long lost to past wars, most specifically from the years of 1908-1974. These beings, all who appear female, possess the ability to not only fight, but wound and kill Abyssals. The Shipgirls claim some allegiance to their previous nations, but to date have never refused 'some have had to be ordered' to assets other nations who they may have once been at war with. Unfortunately, our would be saviors have made human enemies. Religious extremist, Terrorist, Unknown Organisations, and etc, have come to surface. These factors have been deemed threats to humanity along with Abyssals for their actions against the only weapons the world has to protect itself. With the new threats rising in number, militaries and government organisations from all major countries have been called to action to help protect their assets. At this time, Specialist Brink has been assigned to Joint Base Midway along with a team of 40 other individuals to assess vulnerabilities and defend key personnel. Specialist Brink has also been assigned to a Captain Brackett, who commands a multi-national shipgirl fleet.

21Sep22

Brink sighed and checked his watch as the Air Force C-5 touched down on the Airfield at Joint Base Midway, 0320. Slowly, the large aircraft taxied into position and lowered its cargo doors to offload its occupants. Brink, along with the other members of NRO ARP Team Horn unbuckled themselves from their harnesses, collected their gear, and without sharing any words made their ways to the pre-planned locations. Brink himself was making his way to F Barracks, which would be his foreseeable home for a unknown time. The 26yo man lugged around three full duffel bags, not to mention his plate carrier and weapons, which were already on his person for SOP reason, this of course had gotten him several confused looks by base personnel. It wasn't often that the normal dirt boy saw a person in khakis and dark blue polo roaming around, especially armed. Eventually, Brink found himself inside his assigned room. The room was small, around 15x15ft in size, it had a small bed, desk and chair, a closet, thankful its own bathroom with sink toilet and shower, its size being small of course. Thankfully size had never been a big issue for Brink, he had been in far worse living conditions, most notably the sandstorm days of Saudi.

With the occasional groan, Brink started to put his equipment away. He unloaded his clothes and footwear into the closet. The other two duffel bags went other his bed for the time being. He ripped the velcro on his plate carrier and placed it on the single desk along with his M4. He repeated the process for his holster, but instead took the issued P226 and tossed it onto his bed. Content with the nights unpacking, Brink walked over to the restroom and looked himself over in the mirror. He was a average looking man, he stood at 5'7ft, 185 pounds of 'mostly' muscle and a stocky frame. His white skin had a slight tan, he had several scars most of them on his hands and forearms. He rubbed his face, his green eyes looking over the slight stubble he had started to grow. His dirty blonde hair maintained its constant skin tight high fade combover it had for years. After several minutes of fawning over himself, Brink made his way back to his bed and sat down. He unlaced his boots and took them off, placing them side by side at the foot of the bed before completely laying down. He took another look at his watch, 0410. He let out another long sigh before setting the alarm on his phone to 0700, maybe he could get an hour of sleep before he reported for duty, maybe. Brink positioned the single issued pillow into a comfortable spot, he flipped to his side and held his sidearm near his body as he closed his eyes. "I left the fucking lights on..." he mumbled to himself, but he was far to tired and lazy to turn them off. The next few hours passed in a in and out state of sleep, filled with the now normal dreams of situations far beyond his control.

The next morning came far to quick. Reveille played on base at 0545, which lead to the barracks being active with personnel. For some reason two males decides to have a full scale shouting match that lasted for 45 minutes. In reality Brink could sleep through noise easily, he had done that plenty of times in fact, but the first night in a new place always made him uneasy for some reason. Soon enough his phone alarm set off, causing him to roll over and turn it off. Once again Brink found himself putting his boots and gear back on. He checked his ammo loads for his active weapons and his reserves before throwing his plate carrier back on. Flipping on his radio, Brink placed a headset in his ear before keying his mic. "Mother, brink, radio check?" He asked. "Lima Charlie Brink, have a good one." The female over the net came back instantly. Satisfied that his communications equipment was working, he clipped his M4 into his Y-harness and slid his P226 into his right thigh holster. Brink did one last gear check before grabbing a coyote brown hat for his closet and throwing it on, its American flag patch sharing the same color. With his attire and equipment ready, he left his room and started to head off in the direction of the JB Midway HQ.

The other members of NRO ARP Team Horn were already at work or sleeping still. Each member had their own specific assignment to follow through with. For instance, the female under the callsign of 'Mother' was the team commander. Brink had never talked with her before, and that stood the same with all the members of Team Horn, all of them had been pulled from whatever they had been doing before being briefed and shipped out to Midway. Three other members shared the same job as Brink, they were assigned to the three other fleet commanders and their respective shipgirls. These Fleet Commanders had been briefed on a need to know basis about their new security, and were charged with disseminating the information down to their fleet members. While the four members of Team Horn were 'assigned' to these commanders as handlers, they were fully allowed to act on their own accord, taking orders only from Mother and/or higher authority. The other 35 members of Team Horn were assigned to security duties. Acting as 5 man fireteams or QRF's in the case anything happened. These teams would deploy with fleets when necessary along with their specific handlers. Each handler had a QRF under them, Mother controlled the remaining three as an assault teams for far worse scenarios.

Joint-Base Midway had came into existence around the same time the Shipgirls allowed us to fight back. The base was rebuilt and refurbished as quickly as the United States could throw materials and personal at it. Within the year the war stopped being one sided, Midway sprung back to life and once again became a fully operational asset. The three islands surrounding the atoll had been built up for their own specific purposes. The Atoll itself had new artificial landmass added on to it for new defense installations and buildings for personal and shipgirl housing and repair. The islands defenses consisted mostly of C-RAM's and the occasional prototype Anti-Abyssal Artillery. But without a doubt the only true power the island held was the 4 fleets of shipgirls stationed at it. While mankind continued and struggled to create weapons to fight against their foe, the shipgirls were the constant end all fallback plan. Truthfully, humanity had almost exhausted it's weapon making capabilities, nothing they seemed to produce could kill the Abyssals, sure they could annoy, maybe even damage them, but never kill. The only options left in the human arsenal were nukes and space based kinetic rods. But MAD and the fact no one wanted to crack the planet or irradiate the oceans prevented their use. Besides the last use of nuclear weapons in Saudi Arabia left the world scared to see them used again.

Oh, Saudi Arabia... what a massive fuck fest that had been. Islamic radicals fighting Islamic moderates in the land that sold all the oil. China, America, Russia, and Europe all fought in that sand trap. Only to end with a systematic detonation of 15 nuclear weapons. Now all that was left out there was glass and radiation.

Brink snapped out of his self induced thought trance. After several minutes of walking he had finally made his way to the island Fleet HQ. As he opened the door two small children came flying out, one chasing the other and both of them laughing. 'Must be those shipgirls.' Brink thought to himself as he pushed on. Inside the three story building security had already been beefed up. It seems Mother took her position in the building too, so her three QRF's were stationed throughout in advantageous positions. Brink nodded at the ones he passed as he made his way to the third floor. After exiting the stairway, he hanged a right and started to walk to where Captain Bracketts office should be. Lucky enough, the office was in the correct spot. Brink knocked on the door three times before entering.

As Brink made his way through the threshold, someone inside tried to speak. "Come i...looks like you will anyways." Brink shut the door and let go of the handle, a soft click happening as he did so. He looked at the individual who fit the description of Captain Brackett, a tall white male standing at 6'5, and very muscular. Blue eyes and a brown low fade. But the person who was standing next to him would have caught the eye of any sane man. The young woman stood around 6'1, she wore a white and red dress of some sorts, Brink really didn't know female clothing that well. She had a very long brown ponytail and brown eyes. Some sort or pink flower was sitting in her hair. Brink didn't stare at the two for long, 3 seconds altogether at max. He approached the desk the female and male were both behind. The male leaned forward and placed his arms on the desk.

Brink was the first to speak. "Morning sir, you Captain Brackett?"

Brackett stared him down for a moment, looking specifically at Brinks weapons. "Indeed I am, i'll assume your one of the new guards that got stationed here last night." He shifted position in his chair, leaning back and placing his hands in his lap

Brink gave a curt nod, "Specialist Brink, ARP Team Horn, i'll be working with your fleet and yourself for a unspecified amount of time."

"Well Specialist Brink," Brackett yawned out. "I was briefed on why you were being assigned to us, and also that you don't have to listen to anything I tell you to do, which honestly is stupid as hell in my opinion. But not like I matter" he said jokingly before sitting up and waving over to the female. "This is my secretary, Battleship Yamato, she's basically my XO for the rest of the fleet. Helps me with paperwork and things of that nature.

Yamato gave a small bow before speaking. "Good morning Specialist, it is a pleasure to meet you. As the Captain said, I help him with extra duties and help maintain some form of order within the rest of the fleet." She gave a slight smile as she finished.

"Specialist," Brackett said suddenly, "Since your from the NRO, and why a National Reconnaissance Office member is out here I have no clue, are you a spook?"

Brink shrugged, "Kindle." He was.

"So your real names not Brink is it?"

"No sir it's not." Brink found himself standing at ease for some reason.

"Are you ever gonna tell us your real name Specialist?"

"If you take me out to dinner first." Brink shot back.

Brackett let out a few loud laughs, even Yamato seemed to get the joke, but covered her face when she giggled. "Specialist as much as I didnt want you here, I think we will have a good time." Brackett said eventually, wiping off his forehead.

"Jokes aside sir, you know why i'm here. I'll try not to interfere with your daily on goings, same goes for the shipgirls to. Ill shadow as best a PSD can. If anything happens do listen to every little thing I say alright." Brinks ending was more a order than a request, the Captain knew that too.

Brackett sighed and stood up. He extended his hand. "I hear you, you leave the abyssals to us, and we'll leave the bullets and bombs to you, deal?"

Brink reached over and shook his hand, "Sounds like a good deal to me."

The two men released there grip, then the Captain turned to Yamato, "Well then, let's go show the Specialist here the rest of the fleet."

Yamato nodded and picked up several clipboards before heading over to the door and opening it. "This way please gentlemen."


End file.
